My Sorrow To Yours
by Keryl Raist
Summary: The sequel to A Proper Romance. Snape and Hermione have been married a bit over a year, and life is about to end the honeymoon.
1. Chapter 1

My Sorrow To Yours

A/N: And the adventures of Snape and Hermione continue. As the title implies this one is darker than A Proper Romance, so if you are looking for fluffy romantic fun, head elsewhere. In the last one many of you requested a heads up as to possible cross overs, well, Willow will be back for this story. Not for much of it, and not in a Vampire Slaying sort of way, but she will appear. Lastly, this will update quite a bit slower than A Proper Romance did, eleven weeks ago I had another baby, so between him and his two and a half year old brother, things are a bit busy over here at the Raist household.

And now...the story!

Chapter 1. Dread

Snape almost burned down the lab, and possibly the house, and perhaps, if the winds were right, his neighborhood.

Create a controlled liquid version of Fiendfyre. The idea had appealed to his intellect, and the idea of the challenge of taking a spell of that destructive magnitude and turning it into a useful tool made him happy. Granted, in the last few weeks, as he had continued to work on the puzzle, he had placed a few discrete inquiries as to the intentions of the people who had commissioned the work. The answers he had received did not bode well for him ever releasing his findings.

So it was, in the midst of dealing with an insanely dangerous spell, surrounded by remarkably flammable liquids that a feeling of such utter horror and pain washed over him that he almost dropped the flask he was holding.

He didn't drop it. He did jerk it and splash some on his hand, fortunately covered by dragon scale gloves, which began to hiss and sizzle as soon as the liquid touched it. He looked around the lab and saw nothing, but the feeling intensified and along with it came the knowledge that what was happening somehow involved Hermione.

He took a very quick breath, placed the flask on his lab bench, stripped off the gloves, and tossed a stasis hood over his work. (No matter what was happening with Hermione she would not appreciate her home being burned to the ground.)

He ran to the newest addition to his lab, a small chamber where he could "decontaminate" anything he was wearing. Hermione's Midwife had stressed that it was not a good idea to mix a pregnant woman with experimental potions, and that even the merest hint of something could cause problems. Snape dealt with that by vanishing anything he wore in his lab, and making sure he was thoroughly clean in the chamber before Apparating naked back into the house.

Usually it took him a few minutes to do this routine. Today it took less than five seconds. Those five seconds gave him time to focus on what he was feeling, and the best word he could come up with was dread. He also took a second to remember that he could not Apparate directly to Hogwarts.

_Faster to use the Floo._ Three more seconds got him into their home, into a fresh robe, and into the Floo.

In transit he realized that the feeling was lessening, and for almost half a second he thought he might be doing something foolish. Then the dread slammed back into him, strong enough to make him want to vomit. _Not foolish. _

He jumped out of the Floo in her office and did not wait for the room to stop spinning before he began to run to her classroom. His hip made a soft pulpy sound as it smacked into her desk, and for the next two weeks he'd wonder how he had gotten that bruise.

He was moving fast for a forty-five year old, but not as fast as he wished to be. He was running full out when he turned the corner to the staircase that lead to Hermione's classroom in the North Tower when he almost crashed into Harry.

"You feel it too?" He gasped at the younger man.

Harry didn't speak, winded from his run from the other side of the castle nine floors down. He just nodded at Severus. For a perverse second that made Snape feel a little better, he wasn't just imagining this. Which then made him realize whatever was causing this was real. And if it was real…

He ran faster. Harry kept pace with him.

"I told my students to get Poppy and send her to Hermione." Harry panted at Severus as they got within one floor of Hermione's classroom.

_Please, please let her be there already! _ As close to a prayer as Snape had ever come in his adult life.

They both had their wands out as they got to the floor her class was on. Severus didn't bother with a proper spell, fear fueled magic that blasted the door to her classroom off its hinges and out of their way.

Upon entering that door, both of them skidded to a halt. The classroom looked normal, no ravening hordes, no evil monsters, no battle to the death. Just a normal classroom, except for the stunned third years, and Hermione was not at her board. She was standing at her desk. Snape could almost breathe, the fear almost lessened. Harry was barking orders at the students that class was dismissed and to get Madam Pomfrey here as fast as possible.

Hermione didn't look up. Severus noticed this almost as an afterthought to the fact that no one was attacking her. Her hands were white, and they were clutching her desk. He felt as if he was moving towards her in slow motion. But, eventually, he was next to her, and placed one of his hands over hers.

She did look at him then, gave him a very small, pained smile, and started to topple towards him. He caught her, and settled her in his lap on her chair. As she moved he caught the smell of blood, and after a few seconds felt the wetness through his robe.

The rational part of Snape's mind, the part that had spent two and a half years working in the antidote department of St. Mungo's, knew that bleeding was a normal part of a miscarriage. The rational part knew that miscarriages this late were rare, but not unheard of. The rational part also seemed to be sitting behind him and talking to him from a long way off.

The rest of his mind was doing everything he could not to start screaming. Part of it wanted to jump up and run her to Poppy. Part of it was so scared that moving her could make something worse that he felt bound to the chair.

Harry had joined them, and was holding Hermione's hand. He was talking, a nonsensical litany of soothing noises interspersed with "Poppy's coming soon."

After about the third time Harry said, "She'll be here any second," Snape finally did decide to move Hermione. Poppy was taking too long, something must have waylaid her, and there was no way he was going to let Hermione bleed a second longer than necessary. He had stood, Hermione in his arms, and walked two steps when Poppy ran through the door, out of breath and disheveled.

She didn't stop to catch her breath. Her wand was out and she was breathing hard when she said, "Put her down Severus. I can't do the diagnostic spells with you holding her."

He stood there for a second, unwilling to let her go. Harry placed a hand on his arm, and provided a gentle downward pressure. Snape slowly and awkwardly sunk to the floor and gently deposited Hermione on it. Her eyes were closed now, a look of pain on her face.

"What happened, dear?" Poppy asked.

Hermione shook her head. She couldn't, or didn't want to talk.

"It's going to be alright. We'll get you fixed up in no time." Poppy looked up from Hermione to the two men. "How did you two end up here?"

Severus looked at Harry, who looked back at him; both had an expression that belied a level of mild confusion. Snape spoke first.

"I felt something awful. All of a sudden something was wrong, and I just knew it had to do with Hermione."

"It was like having a knife of ice run through your gut." Harry added.

"Hmmm…" Poppy said, looking critically at Hermione, taking her pulse, checking for fever. "How far along is she?"

"Nineteen weeks," Snape answered.

"Any complaints recently?"

"Just the usual, tired, heartburn, constipated."

"Yes, all things normal for a pregnancy. Any unusual swelling, dizziness?"

Hermione shook her head no.

"Can you talk?"

"Yes." The first word she had said since they had gotten here. Snape felt a wave of relief wash over him.

"Hurts something awful, does it dear? Is the pain coming and going?"

Hermione nodded, and once again closed her eyes.

"I'm going to do a few spells, and then we'll get you to the hospital wing."

Snape knew enough about healing, and enough about dealing with dark curses to know that Poppy was not doing any sort of standard medical diagnostic spells. She was looking for something sinister, and when the second spell revealed a sickly chartreuse aura streaked with black, all the relief Snape had felt at hearing her voice fled.

Poppy looked shaken. "What's the name of her Healer and Midwife?"

Snape felt sick with fear. "Healer Derwint and Susan Bones is the Midwife."

"We're going to St. Mungo's. Catch up as soon as you can." And with that Poppy grabbed Hermione and Apparated them out of Hogwarts.

They both stood there for a moment. Harry looked dumbly at the spot where Hermione and Poppy had been.

"How?" Harry asked. They began the walk to Hermione's Floo.

It took a moment for Snape to realize that Harry had spoken. He shook his head as if in a daze. "It's supposed to be a secret, something only the Healer and the Headmaster knows, the only person who can Apparate into and out of Hogwarts is the Healer, and anyone she may be carrying. For exactly this reason."

"Oh."

The walk to Hermione's Floo was also at a fast pace, but the frantic run to her classroom had left Snape too tired for sprinting back down three flights of stairs.

Snape didn't speak, his mind already at St. Mungo's with Hermione. Harry didn't know if, or what to say to him. Finally, he settled on, "She'll be okay."

Snape grunted. They entered Hermione's office. Snape had grabbed some Floo powder and was about to enter when Harry grabbed his arm.

"I've got to tell Minerva what's happened. I'll be with you soon, but it'll take a few minutes."

Snape nodded, tossed the Floo powder, and vanished in a green flash.

Harry decided to walk up to Minerva's office. He wanted the time to calm himself before he had to say anything to her. He didn't think she'd be too rattled, but he found it difficult to say the words, even in his own mind, let alone out loud.

He stopped at the door to Hermione's office. Snape really shouldn't be alone. Harry knew from his own, much happier experiences at St. Mungo's, that being stuck in the waiting room alone was a whole new level of torture.

He returned to the Floo and called on his Father-In-Law.

"Harry?" Arthur looked calm but surprised to see Harry's face in the Floo in the middle of a school day.

"Dad, can you get to St. Mungo's?"

Arthur's face changed, fear tinged a purposely calm expression. "Certainly, what happened?"

"I think…" Harry took a deep breath to calm his voice, "I think Hermione lost the baby. Severus is there now, and he's alone, and it'll take a few minutes before I can get there."

"I'll be there in a second."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Waiting

Arthur found Snape sitting quietly in a room that was much too cheerful for the occasion. That was the only problem with the nursery ward, if for some reason you were there and you weren't going home with a baby, it was just too damn perky. He knew from the way Snape was sitting that he had yet to get any information out of the medical staff, and that it was taking every ounce of his self control not to jump out of that chair and run to Hermione's side.

Arthur took a moment to summon some tea, and to fortify it with a bit of brandy, and then handed the cup to Snape while sitting down next to him. Severus took the cup, gulped it down, and handed it back to Arthur without a word. Arthur took the cup, and placed a hand on Severus' shoulder, gave it a squeeze, and just sat quietly with him.

Harry joined them a few minutes later. "Any news yet?"

Arthur shook his head. "What happened?"

Harry explained the feeling of dread, the run to Hermione's office, and the ominous aura that Madame Pomfrey had revealed. Arthur nodded as he listened to the story. Snape continued to sit silent and tense; staring at some distant point.

Arthur watched Snape bolt out of the chair when Poppy entered the room.

"Easy Severus, the Healers are with her. She's going to be fine," Poppy said with a gentle voice.

_Healers_ Arthur thought. _More than one, this is not good. The last time anyone around here saw more than one Healer was when I was brought in with that bite. _

Severus did not look reassured. "What did you see when you did the diagnostic spell?"

Poppy looked pained. "I don't know. Whatever it was wasn't good, but it's nothing I've seen before."

"Did they stop the bleeding?" Harry asked.

"Not yet, but don't worry, her body isn't done yet. When it is the bleeding will stop. Probably a week or two from now. One of them will be out to see you soon. I'm going to head back to the school, and let Minerva know that it will be a while before Hermione gets back."

Snape nodded dully. Arthur wanted to hug the younger man. Had Severus been one of his boys he would have, but even with as close as they had become over the last year and a half, Severus was still not his son, and Arthur was not sure how he'd take the gesture. So once again Arthur squeezed Snape's shoulder, and offered him another cup of tea.

A young man in disheveled robes burst out from the double doors leading out of the waiting room. Snape jumped, and then collapsed back into his chair when he saw the man head straight for one of the Floos in the room, and begin excitedly calling his parents. "Mum! Dad! It's a boy…" and other joyful words washed over them.

_They really need a better waiting room set up, _Harry thought. _This has got to be killing Severus. _

The unknown man continued to call his family and spread the word. Severus, Harry, and Arthur sat and waited.

"I should call Molly."

Arthur was halfway out of the chair when Severus looked at him and quietly said, "Wait. I don't think I could take Molly yet."

"Oh." Arthur sat back down. Arthur could see it in his head, Molly would be there in an instant, mothering Snape, covering him in soft words and hugs and compassion, and it would break him. He'd lose the last thread that was holding his emotions in check, and for a man like Snape that thought was too much to bear. He was suddenly very glad that Molly no longer kept the clock visible. Nothing would have stopped her from finding them and coming if she had seen Hermione's hand pointing to Mortal Peril.

They sat, quiet and tense. Harry wondered what Snape must be feeling. All of Ginny's pregnancies had flowed along smoothly, and it had never really occurred to him that something like this could happen. Hell, he had seen Hermione at lunch and she had been happily eating, glowing over the fact that she had just started to feel the baby move. The two of them had been playing a game they started when Ginny was pregnant the first time, which one of them could come up with the most outrageous name. He had been so proud of his newest addition to the odious name collection, Ithelrayne. It was so perfectly bad that it made her wince. Then she laughed, stood up, stretched, and headed off to teach.

Two hours later he was sprinting out of his classroom and heading towards hers.

"Severus?" Harry asked.

"Yes…" Snape didn't look away from the doors leading to the maternity ward.

"Have you ever heard of what happened with us? The way we were called to Hermione?"

For a moment Snape closed his eyes, and then he turned to face Harry. He silently thanked Harry. Here was something else to think about. Something clinical. Something other than the fear wrapping around his heart as the image of a Healer walking out of that door to tell him Hermione had died filled his mind.

"I thought she had called us." Harry added, feeling some relief that Snape could still focus on a problem other than Hermione.

"I did too, but now that I think about it…" And for the first time he did think about it, and the icy fear intensified, that kind of spell work was bad, the kind of bad he hadn't seen for almost nine years.

"She was in no condition to cast anything. There's no set spell with a wand that will do what happened, and she didn't have the focus to do it without a wand."

"Exactly. So what spell will do that?"

"An extremely unpleasant one I'm afraid." Susan Bones had come to join them while they were speaking. Snape jumped at her voice and whipped around to face her. "We have her stabilized, but, I'm sorry, Severus, she's lost the baby."

"She'll be fine?" Severus had barely heard the second half of Susan's statement as relief flooded over him with the first half.

"We think so. That's what we need to talk with you, and her, about. But for the time being she's asleep, and will be until at least tomorrow. She lost a lot of blood, so we'd like her to stay here, rest, build her back up, and then start trying to figure out what happened tomorrow. If you want to see her you can, but then you should go home and get some sleep too."

Snape's look indicated he didn't think much of the idea of sleeping.

"I'll give you some Dreamless Sleep. You both need rest. It'll make what comes next a bit easier if you aren't exhausted."

Snape followed Susan through the doors leading to the Maternity Ward.

Harry looked at Arthur and asked, "Do you want…"

"No, go home to my daughter and grandkids. I'll stay here and make sure he gets home and gets some sleep."

"Really? It's not a problem for me to stay."

"There are some things I want to say to him anyway. If you feel like sticking your head in the dragon's mouth you could Floo Molly for me and let her know what's going on, and that I'll be home tomorrow morning at the latest."

Harry nodded. "Sure, Dad, I'll let her know. " He then stepped into the Floo to head home, and begin quietly spreading the news.

When Harry left Arthur stuck his head into the Floo and spoke his secretary's name.

"Ellen…"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?"

"I'd like you to contact Zacharias Smith at Magical Law Enforcement and have him find out which Death Eaters are still alive. Not the usual list either, I want to know each and every single one we didn't find a body for."

"Not a problem. Shall I tell him why he's doing this?"

"Tell him to Floo me at St. Mungo's Maternity Ward if he's got questions."

Ellen nodded and pulled out of the flames. Arthur once again thanked God that she had come his way. He'd gone through three totally useless secretaries over the last six years, but Ellen was always calm, always on top of whatever he wanted, and didn't ask awkward questions until he was alone in his office.

Arthur settled back to think. Who could handle this properly? Most of the Aurors he knew and trusted from back in the days when he was in charge of Misuse of Muggle Object had died or retired. And to make matters more difficult whoever ended up with this case would have to do it fast before Severus got over the shock and went out looking for old enemies himself.

_Assuming this was aimed at Severus. Hermione's made some powerful enemies over the years as well. Hell, this could have been aimed at Harry…_

_No, not Harry…Ginny and the kids are better targets if he's aiming for Harry. Hurting Harry is just a nice side effect of hurting Hermione and Snape. Hermione and Snape? Hermione or Snape? _

An hour passed while Arthur pondered what had happened.

Zacharias Smith's proper voice came from the Floo.

"I have the list you wanted Mr. Weasley."

"Thank you Mr. Smith."

"May I ask why the head of the Department of Muggle Relations has his secretary call me and tell me to drop everything to come up with this list?"

"You'll get the case tonight, tomorrow at the latest. I wanted to see the list of suspects and get working on it as soon as possible."

"Is it a Muggle matter?"

"No, it's a family matter."

"Mr. Weasley, you aren't an Auror."

"No, I'm not, and I don't intend to investigate. I do intend to see who can be whittled off this list so that when you do investigate you'll be able to move faster than you would otherwise."

Smith looked annoyed at the lack of answer, but he handed the paper over anyway. It didn't do to ignore the request of a senior Ministry official, even if he wasn't directly in line to promote you.

"Thank you Mr. Smith. I appreciate that you were so quick to collect these names."

"You're welcome Mr. Weasley."

Arthur spent the next hour going over the list, debating each name. Did the witch or wizard have the skill necessary to cast this kind of spell? Or, as he suspected from the small comments he had heard, did the Witch or Wizard have the skill necessary to invent this kind of spell.

After two and a half hours had passed Arthur decided it was time to collect Severus. He folded the list, placed it in his pocket, and then stopped at the desk to find out what room Hermione and Severus were in.

He entered the room quietly. Severus was sitting beside Hermione holding one of her hands in his. Hermione looked like she was sleeping peacefully. In fact, if she had been in any bed but this one he would have assumed she was just having a bit of a nap. _The joys of Dreamless Sleep._

"Come on Severus, let's get you home."

"I don't want to leave her."

"I wouldn't think you did, but you need to go home."

"Why?"

"Because in a day or so Hermione is going to go home with you and if you stay here with her the whole time then she'll have to go home to a house filled with baby things."

Which is when it really hit Severus. Hermione had lost the baby. He went limp, and Arthur tugged him towards the Floo like a tired child.


	3. Chapter 3

3. Home

'Filled with baby things' was a bit of an exaggeration, but not by too much. There were cards on the mantle from well wishers, many of whom neither Snape nor Hermione had ever met, but three weeks ago when the Daily Prophet went live with the news they started getting cards and small gifts.

On the coffee table in front of the sofa was a small collection of books on different birth techniques. Just because she'd likely have a magical birth didn't mean Hermione didn't want to know about Lamaze, Bradley, and water births.

Snape just stared at the collected objects in his living room, knowing that there was more in the nursery they had just started to decorate. He reached for a card, and then stopped, his hand inches from it.

"We shouldn't touch anything. I don't know how this curse is spread." He paused staring at the cards on the mantle. Arthur conjured a box to put the cards in, and began to nudge them into the box with the tip of his wand.

Severus blinked slowly, and then began a very long, very loud, and very profane tirade. Having spent most of his adult life with Molly, Arthur was familiar with what happened when people with a hot temper explode, but he had never seen anything like this. It was terrifying the way blackness and rage seemed to coalesce around Severus. Arthur wanted to stop him, but didn't know how. Without warning Snape whipped around and punched his hand through the wall. The sound of plaster and lathe and likely fingers breaking brought Snape out of his rage. He stormed out of the room, and returned a moment later holding a vial in the hand he hadn't used. The hand he had used hung at an odd angle and was rapidly swelling and turning black.

"Can you open this for me?" His voice was calm, though he spoke through gritted teeth, and his color was paler than normal.

Arthur took the vial and began to open it. He couldn't hide the alarmed look on his face.

Severus caught the look. "It's Skelegrow. I'm fairly sure that at least two fingers and a metacarpal are broken.

Arthur handed Snape the potion, and Severus gulped it down. He winced slightly, and tried to move his fingers. Only the thumb and pinky flexed. He stood in the middle of his living room looking at the box filled with cards. "I've been too comfortable for too long. It never occurred to me to take a dark detector to the lot of this stuff. Nothing should have entered this house without being scanned first."

Arthur thought fast for a way to respond to that. The last thing he wanted was for Snape to start blaming himself. "None of us are still living on a war footing anymore. Besides you don't know what did this. It could be a side effect of one of the curses Hermione got hit with during the war. Bellatrix had her alone for how many hours? She got hit with at least a few others we never identified during the battle of Hogwarts and at the Ministry of Magic."

For a second the rage sparked, and was quickly replaced with a defeated tone. "Stop being condescending. You don't think this is an old curse anymore than I do. I should have protected her. I should have kept watch on our home." Severus kicked the box, and then sat down on the couch.

Arthur slid the box out of foot range and sat next to Severus. "If you were still the man who spent all of his time looking over his shoulder she wouldn't have married you." Severus thought about that for a minute.

"She'd have been better off without me." Severus squeezed his broken hand. Arthur realized he needed to get Severus out of this mood quickly. Grief was normal and good, but blaming himself wasn't solving any problems and was creating more. He straightened his shoulders and hardened his voice.

"Bullshit! She'd be in America or Australia pining away for Ron with her life on hold if it hadn't been for you. That is in no way better off. Now you stop this. It happened. You didn't stop it. And if what we've heard about this curse is accurate there was no way you could have stopped it. And I see you hurting your hand all over again. She won't like that at all. You don't want her to wake up and find out that you've only got seven working fingers. Now where do you keep your pain killer?"

"I don't need one." Severus sounded petulant.

"You're white as a sheet and using the pain in your hand to punish yourself. That stops now. Where's the pain killer? I know you brew an excellent one because we've got some of it at home. And you do not want me popping back to my house and telling Molly what I need and why I need it."

Severus sighed. Arthur had the perfect trump card. The last thing he wanted was Molly Weasley in his home right now. "The bathroom off of our bedroom. In the medicine cabinet."

"Good. I'll get it. You read through this and start thinking about who we need to investigate." He handed Severus the parchment.

Arthur sighed deeply from frustration when he got out of Severus' hearing. This had not gone even close to how he had wanted it to. Instead of getting Snape off the warpath, he had just put him on it. But enraged Snape was something he thought he could handle, self pitying Snape scared him. He entered the bathroom, and found the potion he was looking for. As he exited the room he noticed something he missed when he walked into their bedroom. On what he assumed was Hermione's side of the bed was a book of baby names, and a small basket filled with yarn.

He picked up the basket, and saw the beginning of a baby blanket. Small knit squares of blues, greens, yellows, and pinks were waiting to be attached to each other. He sighed again, sadly this time, and put the book in the basket, and took both of them to the nursery. He stopped at the door of the nursery. "Accio Box." A few seconds later the box of cards and books from downstairs joined him. He opened the door and slid the box and the basket into the room. He didn't want to enter it and see more proof of a dream shattered.

When he returned to the living room Severus barely looked up. He had a pen in his off hand and was awkwardly crossing out names from the list in front of him.

"Most of these people are dead."

"You know that for sure? I had Smith make me a list of everyone we never found a body for." He handed Severus the pain killer. Severus shot it back quickly, his eyes hardly leaving the page in front of him.

"I was there when these two were killed."

"That's good enough for me."

Severus continued to read, occasionally placing a note next to a name or crossing a name out.

When he got to the bottom of the list he added three names. Of the original fifty-six names there were now twenty.

"I should go to bed." Arthur was not an accomplished Legilimens. In fact he was not even close to being a competent Legilimens. But even he could see that Severus had absolutely no intention of going to bed.

"Wait a minute first. There are two things I want to talk to you about."

"I'm rather tired."

"It won't take long. Then I'll put you to bed, feed you some Dreamless Sleep, and come and wake you in time to get to St. Mungo's before Hermione's awake."

"I'm not a child. I don't need help going to bed."

"I don't think you need help going to bed. I think you need help not racing out of here the second I leave and unleashing your considerable skills at interrogation and the production of Veritaserum on everyone on that list. You aren't an Auror, Severus. And the last thing we want is for you to end up in jail in the cell next to the guy who did this." Severus blinked. Arthur took that for assent, and continued on with what he had really wanted to say to Severus.

"Right now you're focused on Hermione." _Right now you're focused on revenge, _Arthur thought, but he continued on with what he wanted to say to Snape originally. "And you should be. But you have to keep something in mind, she won't think of this as something that happened to her. She'll think of it as something that happened to her child."

Severus started to speak, but stopped when Arthur gestured that he wasn't finished. "I saw the way you looked when the Healer said Hermione was fine. For you the loss of the child is an afterthought. And it should be. Babies aren't real to us the way they are to our wives, not until they're on the outside at least.

"Tomorrow, when you see her, keep this in mind. She lost a child. You lost the possibility of a child. It's not the same thing. It's not even close. For you the most important part is that she wasn't hurt. For her the most important part is the loss of a baby. And you can't tell her any of this. She won't appreciate hearing that you're young and you can have more kids, although that's true. She won't want to hear how happy you are that she's alright, although that's true too. Tomorrow she'll need a partner to grieve with, not some revenge obsessed maniac who's breaking fingers because the physical pain is easier to deal with than the mental pain.

"Severus, we love you, and we will find who did this. But let us do it. You need to be there for her."

Like many of the people who knew him, Severus had a tendency to forget how deep Arthur went. It was easy to just see the mild mannered Ministry official and family man who was overshadowed by his much louder and brighter family.

Severus spoke quietly, "I don't know if I can bear her sorrow." _Ah, there's the root of this, _Arthur thought.

"You can and you will. And in time it will fade. Come on, let's get you into bed." Arthur stood up and offered Severus his hand. Severus took it and stood. When he did Arthur hugged him, and for the first time in his adult life Severus was being embraced like a son. Snape stiffened for a moment, and then relaxed. Arthur felt Severus start to shake, and loud, uninhibited sobs filled the room.

"You will make it through this, both of you," Arthur said, patting Severus on the back; soothing Severus like he had countless times before with his boys. After a few moments Severus regained control of himself. Arthur led him to his room, gave him the Dreamless Sleep potion, and left.


	4. Chapter 4

4. Diagnosis

There is a room in St. Mungo's that only five people have keys to. They are the top five diagnostic Healers on the Curse ward. It's called The Room of Obscure Curses, and inside it is a huge card catalog of rare Curses.

Healer Derwint had never been in the room before. As an Obstetric healer she had never had to deal with a cursed pregnancy before.

"How does it work?" She asked Healer Collins, head of the Curse Damage Department.

"Say the symptoms, and the cards that correspond to it will come to you."

Healer Derwint began with what she considered the rarest symptom. "Chartreuse aura streaked with black." What looked like hundreds of cards shot upwards. "Not so rare then?"

Healer Collins shook his head. "Actually that's a fairly common mark of a really nasty curse."

"Miscarriage." Most of the cards shot back into the card catalogue.

"No fetus." Three cards were still hovering above the catalogue.

"No fetus?" Collins looked appalled.

"Just blood. Almost as if the poor child had been liquefied." Both of the Healers looked disgusted.

"Now, what?"

"Take the cards and read them. If it looks like the curse, then we'll get the book."

Derwint took the hovering cards and read them quickly. "I think I want to know more about this one."

"Dagmar's Desolation. I've never seen that before."

"The card says the last recorded case was in 1953."

"Well, that explains it. I didn't take over until '67. Let's see the file on it." Collins took the card and went to the door on the far side of the room. He passed the card through a small slot on the door, and it opened. "This is the Obscure Curse Library. It has the files on all of these curses, and in some cases the only known books to contain them." The book shelves around them were filled with alphabetical paper files and ancient books. Each shelf was also locked.

"Don't touch any of the shelves. If anyone who doesn't have a card and the key to the outside touches one of the shelves something very bad happens."

"Define very bad," Derwint said.

"I'd really rather not. Just let it suffice to say that no one has every successfully stolen anything from this room." They walked in silence for another minute. "Ah here it is." Collins touched the key to the shelf, and then inserted the card into a slot. The shelf opened and he lifted the file, a very thin file, and a small book from the shelf. "There's a table in the middle of the room. We can read this there."

"Can I touch the file?"

"Sure, it's only the shelves that are dangerous." Derwint rose an eyebrow in question.

"It's only the shelves that are dangerous to the touch." Collins amended.

The two of them sat at the table and Healer Derwint began to read aloud from the file.

_Winter Solstice, 1365_

_The curious case of Dagmar Dulense. Mistress Dulense has at this point suffered three miscarriages, one stillbirth, and the death of three children, each at different stages of development. _

_The first miscarriage occurred upon her first noticing the movement of the child._

_The second miscarriage occurred around the time of her seventh month of pregnancy._

_The third miscarriage occurred after two hours of contractions._

_Upon her fourth pregnancy she was delivered of a still born baby boy._

_The fifth child lived to the age of six weeks. He smiled at Mistress Dulense for the first time and then died in his sleep that night._

_The sixth child lived to the age of walking. He took his first few steps, and then died in his sleep that night._

_The seventh child lived to the age of three, and then died in his sleep._

_After the seventh child she came to me to be sterilized. She did not wish to lose another child. Upon examination I noticed the mark of a grave curse upon her. She did not remember being cursed at any point, but she did recall one of her suitors had vowed revenge upon her for choosing another. _

_Healer O'Brein_

_New Year's Day, 1366_

_Jonathan Rourke has been convicted of the curse placed upon Mistress Dulense, and the murder of her seven children. We recovered his spell book, but he refused to reveal how to reverse the curse. He killed himself in his cell while the interrogator went in search of Veritaserum. _

_Mistress Dulense has agreed to use a contraceptive spell while we attempt to find a cure for this curse._

Derwint flipped through the next five pages and then looked up. "Five pages of attempts to cure this curse, and no luck." She read the next ten pages silently. "Eight additional cases in the last seven hundred years. The last one was Cassandra Livenly. She was cursed by Cornelius Burke in 1953 when she left him for another man. The recommended course of action is sterilization."

"Seven hundred years and no one has found a cure?" Collins was looking at the book in front of him.

"At one case a century it's not like there's been a lot of chances for experimentation. What I want to know is how this keeps getting out if we've got the spell book."

"Obviously this isn't the only book in which this spell is located. Maybe that Burke fellow is still around and the Aurors can try and find the spell. If we can't cure it maybe we can contain it."

"Can I take this file? The Snapes will want to read it I'm sure, and so will the Aurors assigned to their case."

"Certainly. I'd rather the book stayed here though. I'll make myself or one of the others available to anyone who wants to read it. Do you want to read it now?"

Derwint nodded. "Do you want to stay with me?"

"Not necessary. Just call me and I'll be back as soon as I can."

Derwint sat down and began to flip through the book in her hands. It appeared to be a diary of some sort. The early pages told of a blossoming romance between a young witch and a much older wizard. Rourke must have been close to fifty years older than the object of his affection.

Reading carefully it looked like he romance was all on Rourke's side. What he had considered perfectly restrained respectable behavior looked like a lack of interest to Derwint. Of course, she already knew how the story ended, so that may have colored her view of what she read.

Finally after close to fifty pages of insipid prose about the beauty, perfection, purity, and chastity of Dagmar came the crux of the issue. Rourke had asked her father for permission to marry. Her father had said he was in favor of the match, but the he would have to consult his daughter before giving his permission. Rourke left and a day later received an owl with a message saying that not only was permission not granted, but that Dagmar would greatly appreciate he cease calling immediately in that she had another suitor she preferred.

To say that Rourke had taken it badly was an understatement. What followed was another fifty pages swinging from despondent whining about the loss of her love being the end of the world, to long horrific rants about his plans for revenge.

Finally after revenge plans ranging from kidnap and torture, to murder most foul, to the killing of the other man, he came up with his perfect plan.

_Pain. What I want for the bitch is pain. Pain like what she's given to me. Unending, unendurable pain. I want her to hurt. I want her man to hurt. I want her parents and friends and everyone who's ever looked upon her with a smile to feel my pain and my wrath._

_And I think I've found it. She wants children. She's one of twelve children and she wants to do her mother one better. So that's where I'll strike against her. She'll lose her children. Each one later than the previous. I want her to fear, and then relax, begin to enjoy each new child, and then be torn by pain again._

_She will marry the whoreson a fortnight hence, and when she does I will strike._

The spell had been cast on an item, and during the wedding, while everyone was enjoying the party; he had slipped into her new home and buried the broken cup under her hearth.

There were very few entries after that. The first one dated almost three years later and Derwint could almost hear him cackling with joy that she had lost one child during labor, and he was even more pleased when a year later the next baby was stillborn. At that point the journal ended.

Derwint contacted Collins. He joined her shortly. "Did you find anything useful?"

"Maybe. Mostly I just want to get a shower and clean off this feeling of revulsion."

"I understand."


	5. Chapter 5

5. Revelation

"I hate this." Derwint said to Collins as they stood outside of Hermione's room.

"I don't like it either, but they have to know."

Derwint took a deep breath. She visibly calmed herself, and then opened the door. Hermione was sitting on the edge of the bed. She had been weeping, but had managed to put on what Derwint considered 'a brave face.' Severus was standing next to her, an arm around his wife. His face might have been carved from stone, there was no motion, no emotion. His eyes were wild though, and Derwint had the feeling that anything might push him into a rage.

"The first thing I want you to know is this, there is nothing that either of you could have done to prevent this. Hermione, look at me dear…" Hermione stopped looking at Collins, whom she had never met before, and focused on Derwint, "This was not your fault. You did nothing wrong. You and your baby are the victim of a terrible curse. It's called Dagmar's Desolation, and I've brought Healer Collins in to tell you more about it."

"Hello, I'm Albert Collins." He offered his hand and both shook it. "I'm the Head of the Department of Curse Damage, and I specialize in rare curses. I can try to be gentle about telling you this, but I don't think it would help. Dagmar's Desolation is a very rare curse. It's been cast nine times in the last eight hundred years. It's exceptionally dark magic designed to produce maximum pain for the target. In the past it's been cast by a jilted lover on the night of the victim's wedding. The spell kills the victim's children at different points of development. Each time allowing the child to grow a bit older, and the parents to become a bit more secure in the idea that this time the child will make it, before killing again." Both Hermione and Severus had blank looks on their faces. As if the information had not yet sunk in.

Collins took a deep breath, "There is no known cure. The recommended treatment is sterilization."

"NO!" Hermione almost screamed it. Her voice was the wounded howl of a feral animal. "NO! We will fix this!" Each of her words were enunciated with a frantic determination. Severus said nothing, but he caressed the back of his wife's hand and looked just as determined as she did.

"I thought you might feel that way, dear. I've put together everything we know about the spell, and everything that's been attempted to cure it in the past." Derwint handed a folder to Hermione who began to read it before she even had a full hold on it.

"You're free to go home when you want to. I've already filed a report with Magical Law Enforcement. They tell me that sometime this afternoon they'll have someone at your home to talk to you and look for any dark objects," Collins said.

"As long as you don't get pregnant you'll suffer no further ill effects from the spell." Derwint hoped that sounded like good news, but Snape's stoic look, and Hermione's frantic reading, didn't indicate either of them took any comfort at those words.

"One thing I can tell you that may be of comfort is this: they've captured everyone who's ever cast this spell. It's rare and difficult magic which makes it easier to find who did it."

Finally Snape spoke, "Whoever cast this better hope the Aurors find him." Collins was certain Snape didn't actually say "Because I'll make the Dementor's Kiss look like an embrace from mum…" but he also knew that just because Snape didn't say it didn't mean that Snape didn't think it. Severus was thinking that, and many other things along those lines, very loudly.

Hermione looked up. "We can leave?"

"If you'd like," Derwint said.

"Anything else I need to do?" Her eyes were bright and Derwint sincerely hoped Hermione wouldn't work herself into madness looking for a cure.

Derwint shook her head, "No. You'll continue to bleed for the next week or so, but assuming everything goes the way it has in the past, you'll have no complications. Get some rest, go slow if you get dizzy, and don't get pregnant. If you think it will help you could go back to work on Monday."

When the dizziness from the Floo stopped Hermione noticed that all of the baby things were gone from the living room. She gently touched the spot on the coffee table where she had left her books.

"You cleaned up?" Severus wasn't sure if she was happy he had done so.

"Arthur thought it would be a good idea."

"Is everything gone?" Hermione asked looking around the room.

"Not gone, just in a box, in the…in the nursery."

"What happened to the wall?" She sounded only mildly interested in the gaping fist sized hole in the wall.

"I hit it."

Hermione turned to him with real concern in her eyes, "You what?"

"I was so angry last night I punched a hole in the wall." As he said that he quickly cast a spell to repair the wall.

"Oh, Severus." She pulled him close to her and began to weep softly. He stood there stroking her hair, feeling for the most part relieved that she was there in his arms and whole. And, although he felt a bit guilty about it, he was relieved she wasn't so far gone that she didn't care about him anymore.

He nuzzled her ear and whispered, "I love you. I loved our baby. And we are going to find the evil bastard who did this, and we are going to make him pay. Then we'll have another baby, and one after that, and as many as you want, and we will be happy. He wanted pain for us, so we'll rub our joy in his face for the rest of his life."

Hermione looked up at him and kissed him. And for several moments they just held each other, drawing strength and comfort from each other's touch.

Two hours later a voice came through the Floo. "Hello, Mr and Mrs Snape, I'm Auror John Davis. May I come in?"

"Yes. Please come through. Would you like some tea?" Hermione offered. She didn't feel as calm as she looked. Part of the time she wanted to start screaming and hexing anyone or thing that got too close. Part of the time she wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep for the next month. But right now she wanted to learn as much as possible about what had happened to them. The sooner the bastard could be found, the sooner they could fix this, and the sooner she could get back to her life.

"I see you've been reading." Mr Davis pointed to the pile of scattered papers on the coffee table.

"Yes," Severus answered. The information had been depressingly complete. Off the top of his head he couldn't think of anything to kill the curse that hadn't been tried before.

"I'm only a few hours ahead of you on this. Unfortunately the last time this spell was cast was in 1953, and all of the Aurors who worked on it are now dead. I have their notes, but it wasn't terribly helpful. Apparently Cornelius Burke was a vengeful nutter who died in Azkaban back in '87. He was easy to find, once Amelia Cranbeck was diagnosed they went looking for a jilted lover, found him, and he confessed within minutes.

"So, I guess the first question is," Davis said as he sipped his tea, "do either of you have a jilted lover?"

Snape almost laughed. Davis appeared to be very earnest, and all of nineteen years old. He was too young to really know much about the two people sitting in front of him. Hermione must have been a professor Hogwarts while he was there, but judging from the lack of horror at Snape, he must have started school after Severus' term as Headmaster.

"I do not believe we have any jilted lovers," Snape said archly.

"Are you sure? Someone who might be playing cool while harboring a deep hate?"

Hermione sighed. "My first love is dead. I married the second. I've two others I've dated. One is outside the magical community and we are still friends. The other is Viktor Krum. I very much doubt he's been harboring a deep hate for me the last twelve years."

"Still, we'll look into him." Davis set a Quick Quotes Quill to work, and it scribbled Victor's name. "What about you Mr Snape? Is there anyone who might have taken your marriage badly?"

"There are many people who may want to harm me or Hermione, but for different reasons. If you are looking for ex-girlfriends, there are none capable of this."

"How would you know?"

"They're all Muggles for starters. Secondly, before Hermione I didn't usually go out with my real face, and never with my real name. And thirdly I don't think any of them were under the impression we were doing anything beyond a casual night out."

"Could you give me their names anyway? I'd like to check every possibility."

"Actually, no I cannot give you their names. Telling you to look for a red headed woman named Sarah who used to go dancing at Falstaf's back in the late eighties isn't likely to produce anything of any use for you. How about we focus on people who may actually want to harm us, instead of looking for women who couldn't identify me, couldn't cast a spell, and probably don't remember I exist in the first place?"

"Well, who do you think would want to hurt you? I mean, besides every living Death Eater. We got the list you made last night."

"Everyone who had a grudge against me, and had the kind of spell power necessary to do this is on the list."

"May I see it?" Hermione asked. Davis handed over a long piece of parchment. "I may have a few that Severus didn't put on there."

While Hermione skimmed the paper John asked Severus, "How about people you don't think have the spell power?"

"You'll be searching for the next twenty years. You'd have to look into everyone who ever attended Hogwarts between 1981 and 1998."

Hermione grabbed her quill and added two names to the end of the list. She then handed it back to John.

"Rita Skeeter and Dolores Umbridge… Why them?"

Hermione looked uncomfortable. "Does it matter? They both have reason to hate me, and both have above average magical skills."

"Do you have any students who might want to harm you?"

"I don't think so."

"Anyone who was very unhappy with a grade? Wasn't able to go on with the line of study they planned because of you?"

"Mr Davis, I teach Arithmancy. You know that. You know that there is no further course of study that actually requires it. It's an elective. If you fail my class you may have problems getting enough NEWTS to go onto what you want next, but nothing is barred specifically for failing that class."

"In that case let me get down to the second part of this. I have a rather sensitive Dark Detector here. I'd like to scan the house, and see if we can find the object used with the curse. Seven out of the eight cases before yours were broken cups, and all were located under the hearth, so this should be a very quick scan."

And, just like in the previous cases the Dark Detector lit up as soon as it was passed over the hearth. A few wand swishes and a broken cup was sitting on a tray in front of Mr Davis.

"So, does this look familiar to you?" And the correct answer was yes, and no. It was just a plain coffee cup. A small, white mug, that just about everyone has at least one of sitting in the back of the cupboard. Severus and Hermione both shook their heads. Anyone, anywhere could have had that cup.

"Well, I'll get it back to our seers. Maybe one of them can get a glimpse of whomever cast this spell on you. If you have any questions, or think of anything, let me know. Here's my card." And with that Mr Davis left their home, taking his notes and the cup with him.


	6. Chapter 6

6. Motive

After Davis was fully out of their home Severus sat next to Hermione and asked, "Umbridge?"

"You know I'm the one who lead her to the Forbidden Forest. At the time I didn't know exactly what the Centaurs did to their captives. I have a better idea now."

"And knowing what you do now?"

"That at the very least they scared the hell out of her, and at the worst she was gang raped and almost murdered before Dumbledore was able to get her out…I'd like to think I could have come up with a better way of dealing with the problem. Maybe led her to Hagrid's cabin and let Fang go after her… Maybe I could have done a better job of convincing Harry to keep his butt in the castle…" Snape smirked at that idea.

"Nothing was going to keep Harry in the castle. In fact, getting him out was part of the plan." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't know how much of it she remembers. Dumbledore made sure that she didn't know all of what happened. Among other things the fewer people who could figure out that I was the one who told the Order you were on your way to the Ministry the better. As to what actually happened to her? My guess is they just scared her badly, maybe a bit of pain, by the time you knew them I don't think any of the Centaurs in the Forest would allow themselves to be polluted by the touch of a human."

"Somehow that's not much of a relief." Hermione sighed.

"Well, if the memory charm broke, she'd have a reason. And she's certainly the sadistic vindictive type."

"Would she be able to find a spell like this?"

"And could she cast it?" Severus stood up, and offered his hand to Hermione. "Let's make some dinner. You need the food, and I need something to do with my hands while I think."

"I don't know if I can eat."

"That's fine. I'll put it on a plate, and you eat what you can."

Hermione sat listlessly at the kitchen table while Severus began to make dinner. He was hoping some food would help perk her up.

"You put Malfoy on your list. Do you really think…" She let the idea trail off.

"No, not really. I don't think he hates either of us, or anyone else for that matter, enough to do this. And it's not really his style. But I've learned that if you protect someone because you think it probably wasn't that person it comes back to bite you."

"Bellatrix is really dead…" It was a statement rather than a question. If anything it was almost a hope. If Bellatrix was around she could certainly muster the power to cast a spell like that, but she was also wild and sloppy, and that would make her easy to find.

"Bellatrix is really dead. There's no way she could have gone underground for eight years. As long as she was alive there would have been Dark Marks found hanging around Wizarding Britain. She would have been a good bet. It's nasty and her one true love, besides Voldemort, was pain." Severus began to put food on the counter and heat up a fry pan.

"My guess is it's not going to be anyone we'd think of." He began to mix some pancake batter. He knew that breakfast food for dinner was high on her list of comfort food. "It'll be some baby Death Eater neither of us ever noticed, with delusions of grandeur and an overactive sense of revenge." He cracked an egg into one pan while flipping a pancake in the other.

Hermione stared at her plate. "Rita Skeeter," she said softly.

"Why is she on your list?"

"I kept her in a jar for four weeks and blackmailed her into not writing about Harry anymore." She said it matter of factly, kind of like the way you'd say, 'I went to get some coffee this morning.'

"Oh…" Snape thought for a minute. He was beginning to realize that he missed quite a bit of what was beneath the surface of the Good Girl Know It All at Hogwarts. "That would be more than ten years ago. Why now?"

"Anyone from our past is more than ten years ago. So why now?" Neither said anything. He put pancakes on her plate next to a piece of bacon, and began a plate for himself. She repeatedly stabbed the pancakes with her fork, without seeming to notice she was doing it.

"You're sure they were all Muggles?"

He sighed. "It's possible one was a Witch. But, it's so unlikely. We're talking about eight women since the war ended. I never saw any of them twice. Most of them never told me a last name, or asked mine. I assumed they knew this wasn't for keeps. Do you sleep with a man you've known for two hours if you're looking for something other than a quick night out?"

"I wouldn't know." Her fork made a slight chipping sound as it punched through the pancake into her plate. It occurred to Severus that this possibly wasn't the best time to be talking about his pre-Hermione post-Lily love life.

"I think tomorrow we should see if Bill can talk to us." He said in an effort to change the subject.

"Why Bill?"

"He's a Curse Breaker. Everyone who's gone after this before has been a Healer. Maybe someone who specializes in curses will have some fresh insight."

"Maybe…I can't think of anything that hadn't been tried." Hermione began to cry again. Severus moved to her seat and held her.

"I know. That's why we'll talk to Bill."


	7. Chapter 7

7. Curses

Bill Weasley loved his job. He spent his life outsmarting people who thought they had been immensely clever. Wizarding salvage law was fairly clear, if there was an unclaimed cursed object, and you could break the curse, it was yours. The Ministry had one department of Curse Breakers, and Gringotts had the other. Between the two branches there had long been a rivalry as to which was the better operation. Gringott's got more practice because they also offered the service for their customers. (And occasionally used it themselves when a client died intestate with a full vault.) The Ministry tended to work on bigger items, like entire burial sites. Occasionally, on really big projects (like the vaults under Stonehenge) they'd work together and split the take.

He'd been a Curse Breaker since he got out of Hogwarts. And in a job where many men got out after a few years, (and usually after having been proven not nearly as clever as they thought they were) Bill was still happy, and quite successful.

Because of this, he wasn't shocked to see Hermione in his Floo the next morning. "Sure I can come over."

Bill sat at their kitchen table, cup of tea in one hand, the other one jotting notes as he read through the pile of material collected by St. Mungo's.

"This is everything?"

"They have the actual diary instead of a copy, but yes, they tell us this is everything." Severus told Bill.

Bill shook his head. "This spell doesn't work."

"What do you mean?" Hermione almost sounded hopeful.

"I mean, it obviously does what they say it does, but this set up," he gestured to the papers in front of him, "won't produce the results you've got. A curse that keeps going after the caster is dead needs some sort of focus, something to power it. And yet the Healers of old broke the focus, mended the focus, destroyed the focus, created a magic free zone and dropped it into it, one of them even had a holy man cleanse it of its dark magic and the damn thing still kept right on working." Bill rubbed his forehead. "You need to go read the original diary, maybe the healers missed something, but this spell doesn't work the way this says it does."

"What are we looking for?" Severus asked.

"Something has to power this curse. Usually it's either the will of the wizard who cast it, or the wizard chooses an object and infuses it with his will to keep the curse running. Every now and again, on really tricky nasty curses you'll find someone who's found a way to pull the background magic into an object and use that to keep a curse running. That's an option with this one as well."

"What do you think of the cup?" Hermione asked.

"My best guess is that it's a fake. Something with a lot of dark energy in it to attract dark detectors, but it's not the actual focus. Or it is a part of the focus. It might work in tandem with something else. But if this is the sole focus this curse shouldn't last longer than the cup."

"Fred once told me you can do anything with magic."

"He was right, sort of. You can do anything, but not any way. One of two premises of this spell is incorrect, either the cup is not the focus or the person who cast the spell did not die before the spell ended." Bill stared at the pile of papers in front of him, tapping his fingers thoughtfully.

"It's possible that no one has properly destroyed the cup before. I've got some friends at the Ministry Curse Breakers, and there's something new we've been dying to try, and this might be the best chance we'll have to see if it works. So once the Aurors are done with it, I'll have Sam unmake it."

"Unmake it?" Severus sounded intellectually curious as well as personally interested.

"Do you remember the restoration spell Harry used on the wood in your wedding chapel? How it rewound time on the wood, made it younger?" They nodded. "It's the same basic premise but on something that isn't living. By the time Sam is done, assuming the spell actually works…" Hermione looked alarmed. Bill patted her hand while he kept speaking. "He'll have a lump of dry clay, a bit of water, and a little pile of glaze sitting in front of him. Then, if need be we can set fire to the components and if that still hasn't done it, we'll vanish what's left. You really can't get any more destroyed than that.

"If you've still got a nasty green aura after that, then we know the cup isn't the focus and we've got to keep looking."

"When we went after the Horcruxes they had to be really killed. Poisoned or destroyed by Feindfyre."

"It's probably not the same kind of thing. Those needed to be physically destroyed and the bit of soul killed. There's nothing in here to suggest that there's anything alive about this curse that needs to be killed. It is a possible way to create a spell that would have this kind of longevity…" Bill shook his head. "This spell just doesn't work the way it's written."

They sat quietly for awhile. Then Severus began to speak, "Obviously there's another copy of this spell somewhere. So, if we can find that, we can find who cast it, and how to fix it."

"I'd say that's your best bet. Don't get me wrong, the healers tried everything that could be tried, but they don't think like an evil nutjob. The first thing we learn as Curse Breakers is to make sure you're actually dealing with the cursed object. It's much easier to create a decoy and a simple curse, than it is to come up with a really nasty curse. This one might be a really nasty curse with a decoy.

"In the meantime, go over the whole house, and the yard, and the lab, and as much of Hogwarts as you think practical with a really good dark detector. Let's see if anything else comes up." Hermione began to smile a little.

"Hold up on the happy thoughts. I don't want to give you false hope. Depending on how this spell really is powered the focus could be anywhere. If it's actually something like a lock of hair, or a bit of fingernail, or a used tissue, it could be literally anywhere on earth. If it's just something you've touched, it's probably within a hundred miles; definitely within two hundred miles. If you've never had any contact with it, it'll be within a few miles of here or Hogwarts, or anywhere else you spend a good deal of time."

"What if we can't find the focus?" Hermione asked. Her voice was shaky.

Bill looked grim. "We'll find the focus."

"But if we don't?"

"You'll need to find a really good healer. There has to be some way to remove the magic from you if it cannot be killed. But I don't know how to do it." Bill stood up. "I have to get to work. What was the name of your Auror? I'll send a report to him about how curses work and what he needs to be looking for."

"John Davis," Severus answered.

Bill gave him a curious look, "John Davis?"

"Yes, do you know him?"

"Not him, but I'm friendly with his oldest brother. Isn't he rather young?"

"He was a very talented student who finished Hogwarts in five years. He graduated the year before last. I guess he got through Auror training in a similar speedy fashion." Hermione told the others.

"I hope so. Well, I'll send some notes his way." Bill got up and left.

Severus didn't like the way Bill said 'I hope so.' He had a feeling there was a piece of the puzzle he had missed. However, he had no desire to say anything that might alarm Hermione. So instead he said. "I've got a dark detector in the attic. It's been in storage for seven years, but I bet it still works. Shall we check the rest of the house?"


	8. Chapter 8

8. Politics as Usual

Harry was not usually a praying man. He did Christmas and Easter church with the rest of the Weasleys, and was comfortable with the idea of God, but he didn't really dwell on the subject. As far as he was concerned he and God were on good terms, and there wasn't much reason to think about it further.

But, it was with a profound and devoted sigh of "Thank you, God!" that Harry looked at the front page of the Daily Prophet, and realized that Severus and Hermione did not get the Prophet at home. In a huge font was the words "Hermione's Heartache…Or Is It?" On it was a photo of Hermione and Severus from their wedding.

He almost didn't read it. But he decided that he had to read it. Especially when he saw it was written by Rita Skeeter. Eventually someone would have to tell them about it. And that someone would probably be him, round about lunchtime. It read:

_Hermione Granger-Snape is now the latest witch to develop some strange curse that induces miscarriages. Prior to Percy Weasley's hair brained scheme to increase the population of Wizarding Britain the miscarriage rate among Witches was a scant one in five hundred. Now it's risen to almost one in seventy-five. Although no one is willing to officially state that Weasley's program has, in addition to ruining the lives of scores of young witches and wizards (see our Award Winning Series: My Marriage Ruined Me!) also driven witches who wish to remain childless to murder their own babies._

_Our reliable sources tell us that Hermione is suffering from something called Dagmar's Desolation. It's an especially rare dark curse, last cast by Cornielus Burke, of the Borgin and Burke family, long time supporters of the Death Eaters, and possibly where her well known ex-Death Eater husband came in contact with the curse. It's long been known by everyone who's ever dealt with Professor Snape that the man loathes children. Likewise last year in the newest addition to the Hogwarts curriculum Professor Granger-Snape told all of her students that she had no desire to have babies anytime soon._

_The only treatment for Dagmar's Desolation is sterilization. How amazing that a couple known for their immense magical skill, ability to use rare and obscure magic, and history of dark magics, somehow managed to be cursed with an exceptionally rare and dark spell._

The article went on to talk about other witches that had recently had miscarriages, and then spent a full page excoriating Percy Weasley for the Marriage Act of 2004.

Harry finished reading. His first reaction was rage. What he wanted, more than anything, was to go find Skeeter and squash her like he bug she was. His second thought was the Ginny might not mind if he killed that woman, she would certainly mind if he got caught.

Then the wave of sorrow hit. He'd have to tell Severus and Hermione. If he didn't they'd soon find out on their own. He stood up from the Head Table slowly, dreading the coming lunch break when he would go to their house and add more pain to the already considerable pain they were experiencing.

******************************************************************

"Fuck!" Percy Weasley pronounced the word with a fussy precision perfectly in keeping with his character, but somewhat out of character with the word. He had entered his office ten minutes earlier and was sifting through the mail from the night before. Finally he had reached the bottom of the pile, his copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Fuck," he said it again while he read. There were two problems to be dealt with here. First and foremost he needed to find where Skeeter had gotten her information. If it was from the MLE then he had both a bit of good news and bad.

He had his secretary check with St. Mungo's. None of the Healers had turned up dead, which meant that none of them had broken their Unbreakable Vows in regards to patient confidentiality. This was good news. The bad news was that the leak must have come from MLE.

Percy was not yet in the political fight of his life. That would come in about two years when the Minister officially stepped down. But for the time being Percy was the golden boy of the Modern Party, and as long as the birth rate continued to increase faster than the death rate, he would stay there. However, he was not the only person who wanted to be the next Minister of Magic. Albert Unin also coveted that position, and was doing his best to make sure that Percy Weasley had lost his golden boy status by the time the job was up in the air again.

And Unin had friends. Not many, and most of them didn't count for much. But Rita Skeeter rapidly became one when she didn't land a husband during the previous year. And although he had no proof of it yet, Percy was sure that Unin had at least one person, if not more, making sure the MLE drug it's feet on cases that would make him look bad.

So the good news was this: Skeeter and the Prophet had finally crossed the line, publishing details of an ongoing investigation was illegal. The bad news was this: There was at least one, if not more, people at MLE willing to help Unin.

Percy had his secretary make two calls.

Reginald Hornple, Head of Magical Law Enforcement, was less than thrilled to be called to Percy's office first thing in the morning. He had been in his office for barely five minutes, and in that time he had found out about five assaults in the last night, the Snape case, that MLE was likely to be over budget, yet again, and then some nitwit put a copy of the Prophet on his desk, which he had barely glanced at when Violet Blaustraude, Percy's secretary, demanded he get to her boss' office immediately.

Percy was holding a copy of the Prophet. "Explain," he said in an icy tone.

"Explain what? The Skeeter woman's been trying to smear you any way she could since she didn't snag a husband last year." Hornple was annoyed, and when he was annoyed his first response was to attack whoever attacked him.

"The only people who knew the details of Mrs. Snape's case that could have told the press work for you."

"Bullshit. My men don't blab."

"Like Hell they don't. The only people who knew the name of the curse were Hermione's Healer, the Snapes, and whoever at MLE got the case and talked to Skeeter. It's been less than twenty-four hours since she was diagnosed, and not even most of our family knows what happened besides the fact she lost the baby. Now, because I am a fair minded person, I…" Percy slammed his hand onto his desk. When he removed it a small smear was all that was left of a bug. He vanished the goo and then wiped off his hand on a handkerchief. "checked with St. Mungo's. None of Hermione's Healers are dead."

Hornple frowned. He had been scanning the front page of the Prophet while listening to Percy. "No one else knew? Bugger. I'll see who had access and where the leak occurred." It wasn't unheard of for sensitive material to end up in the press. However, one of the reforms after Black June made leaking information about an ongoing investigation to the press illegal. "You have to remember though, that woman has a reputation for getting information no one else has, and no one else knows how she gets it."

"For the sake of your department, you had better hope she somehow broke into Magical Law Enforcement and read that file herself. I expect a full report on how the leak occurred in three days."

Hornple grumbled about the time line as he left. But both he and Percy knew that in three days Percy would have a report saying that no one knew how the leak had occurred. However, no new ones would occur either. As good as could be expected. He made a note to see who in MLE could be trusted, or better yet, who would be ambitious enough to keep an eye out for him and find who Unin's men were.

His second meeting required a bit more finesse. He wanted these articles stopped. He also wanted to keep Orion Urus, owner of the Daily Prophet, willing to donate large sums of money to his political future. Instead of a demand, Violet invited him to Percy's office.

Only after cups of tea and the minimum polite chitchat did Percy come to the point. "I want you to sack Rita Skeeter."

"Because she tweaks your nose every now and again? Politics is a rough game, you know that. You need to grow a thicker skin if you intend to go further."

Percy handed Urus his copy of the Prophet. "I've let her tweak me for over a year. You know that if it was just about me we wouldn't have been sitting here. Today she went too far. She printed details of an ongoing case and accused two private citizens, by name, of murdering their unborn child for fun. She's gone beyond her usual innuendo to smear two people who are grieving the loss of their first child, and possibly any future children as well."

"She sells lots of papers…" Urus let that hang.

Percy sat quietly for a moment, debating whether to use the sword hidden behind his back. He decided to go for it. It was time that Urus learned that Percy Weasley could play Beater as well as Keeper. "You know what else sells lots of newspapers? Competition."

"You aren't serious."

"Young Mr. Stibbons in the radical wing of the party can be quite persuasive about dismantling the old charter system and allowing what he calls 'a free market' to exist. Imagine lots of papers, anyone with a press and some free time could set one up. I imagine in a world like that lots of newspapers would sell."

"We've been chartered as the only daily paper for over 400 years."

"All the more reason why it might be time for a new point of view."

"It could hurt you as much as it hurts me." Urus waited for Percy to blink. He was right, many papers could damage Percy, but that wouldn't matter one whit to the Daily Prophet's bottom line if Percy wasn't willing to back down.

And he wasn't. "Hurt me? I'm a public servant working for the greater good. If someone thinks I'm doing a bad job I need to know. With many papers in circulation I'd have a much better idea of what the common wizard thinks of the job I'm doing."

"You're a cold bastard Weasley."

"Why yes, I am. Thank you for noticing." Percy's smile was reminiscent of Fred or George after an especially nasty prank. "I want a public apology for today's story as well. I don't care what face saving gesture you use, including insinuating that Skeeter assaulted your editorial staff and made them publish the piece, but I want her gone, and I want an apology on the front page of tomorrow's edition."

"Is that all?" Urus' voice dripped sarcasm.

"I could request a payment to each of the women she maligned in the story, but I will not. However, as you now know, there has been talk of adding competition to your market, you should probably also know there has been some discussion of adding libel laws as well."

"Lovely. You are set to take all the fun out of being in journalism."

"As I said, I'm a public servant working for the greater good. If the greater good is that your business becomes accountable for what you write, then I'll work for it. If the greater good does not demand such things, then I'll work against it."

"How much will the greater good cost me?"

"Come now Orion, that's a very coarse way of looking at it. But your continued support will be noted when these matters come up for further discussion."

When Orion left Percy did the one thing he was dreading that day. He took out some of his personal stationary, a pen, and began to write a condolence note to Snape and Hermione. He felt a moment of satisfaction from being able to tell them of the sacking of Rita Skeeter. That was work well done. But it felt hollow compared to the tragedy that had befallen them.


End file.
